


everybody's talkin'

by merrymegtargaryen



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Coffeeshop AU, Do not repost, M/M, for a brief time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-30 15:40:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19406314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merrymegtargaryen/pseuds/merrymegtargaryen
Summary: Becoming a cop wasn’t something that Steve had ever envisioned for himself, but he was really good at it. It helped that Hawkins was a quiet town (when it wasn’t being terrorized by a monster from another realm, obviously) and there was never any crime, but really he felt like he could handle just about anything thrown his way.He just didn’t expect Jonathan Byers to be thrown his way.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [judypoovey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/judypoovey/gifts).



> This is for Emily, whose birthday is today and who sent me a Steve/Jonathan coffeeshop au prompt two years ago. I wrote most of it and then kind of forgot about it, but I rediscovered it recently and decided to finish it. So! Two years late, here is that coffeeshop au prompt!

Becoming a cop wasn’t something that Steve had ever envisioned for himself, but he was really good at it. One thing he learned at the academy was that a lot of people became cops for the wrong reasons, and that’s why there were so many bad cops. They were either bullies in high school who wanted to keep bullying, or they had been bullied and wanted to have some sense of power. Oh, they all gave different reasons at the academy, of course--they wanted to keep the peace, wanted to protect and serve. But Steve found that he was one of the only people in his class who had  _ actually wanted _ to protect and serve his community. And it made it...not easy, per se, but easier than he’d been afraid of. It helped that Hawkins was a quiet town (when it wasn’t being terrorized by a monster from another realm, obviously) and there was never any crime, but really he felt like he could handle just about anything thrown his way.

He just didn’t expect Jonathan Byers to be thrown his way.

.

Flo was constantly putting on a pot of coffee at the station, but it was shitty coffee, and no amount of cream and sugar could make Steve stomach it. So in the mornings, before he had to report for duty, he’d swing by Coffee on the Corner (a coffee shop literally located on the corner of Main and Carson) and get a sugary coffee and a muffin. He always finished the muffin in his car so that no one at the station would make fun of him, and if they asked about the drink, he’d just flippantly say he can’t wait that long for his morning caffeine.

He’d just gotten his coffee and muffin and was turning to leave the coffee shop when he caught sight of a familiar face sitting by the window. 

It was Jonathan, and he was looking right at Steve. 

Steve stood rooted to the spot for a moment; it wasn’t until a woman pointedly walked around him, huffing, that he realized he was standing stock-still in the middle of the coffee shop. He pasted a smile on his face and walked over to Jonathan’s table.

“Byers!”

“Hey, Steve.” Jonathan got up and made to shake his hand, but Steve’s hands were full of coffee and muffin, so he shoved his hands in his pockets. “How, uh, how are you?”

“I’m good,” Steve said way too brightly. “Really good.” He cleared his throat. “And...you? You’re...home for the summer?”

Jonathan nodded. “Yeah.” He hadn’t been around the summer before, which was maybe why Steve was so surprised to see him. Last summer, Jonathan had stayed in New York, doing some kind of internship. He’d come home for a few days here and there, mostly at holidays, but Steve hadn’t run into him those times, just heard about it from Hopper in passing. Hopper hadn’t said anything about Jonathan coming home this summer, though.

“Well,” Steve said after a moment. “I gotta go, but...it was really good seeing ya...buddy.”

“Yeah, you too.”

Steve walked as calmly as possible out of the coffee shop; as soon as he was in his car, he blew out a noisy breath. 

He hadn’t really kept up with Jonathan and Nancy after November 1984. They’d tried so hard to be friends with him, and for a while, Steve had tried too--but in the end, he couldn’t handle it. Nancy was the first person he’d ever loved, and he was pretty sure that a little part of him was always going to be in love with her. He’d been happy she was happy, really, he just couldn’t stand to watch someone  _ else _ make her happy. So he avoided them, conveniently had other plans whenever they invited him out, and gradually just faded from their lives. He’d gone to the police academy in Chicago after graduation, had ignored Nancy’s requests for his address and phone number so that they could keep in touch; by the time he came home, Jonathan and Nancy had given up on him. 

He’d overheard from the kids not too long ago that Jonathan and Nancy had broken up. He hadn’t wanted them to think he still cared, especially when he’d spent so long convincing Dustin that the way to be cool was acting like you  _ didn’t _ care, so he hadn’t asked. From what he’d gathered, it had been an amicable breakup--something about the distance between New York and Rhode Island and never being able to see each other. Steve had felt strangely empty at the news. He wasn’t happy, but he wasn’t upset, either. 

He wasn’t happy or upset after running into Jonathan, but he definitely felt... _ something _ . He just couldn’t figure out what.

.

Steve went to Coffee on the Corner again the next day, and when he turned away from the counter, he saw Jonathan sitting at the same table by the window. He was looking at Steve again, and Steve found himself smiling and approaching his table. “You stalking me, Byers?”

“Maybe.” Jonathan smiled. “I’m just used to working in coffee shops is all--I didn’t realize this was your regularly scheduled coffee run.”

“You’re...working?” 

Jonathan shrugged. “Sort of, yeah. On my senior capstone project.”

“Oh, yeah?”

Jonathan nodded, hands in his pockets. “Yeah, it’s this...photographic exploration,” he said. “But um, I have to write this huge essay for it and like...plot it all out and stuff.”

Steve’s heart started to beat faster. “So you’ll be here...every day?”

“Uh, I don’t know. Maybe.” Jonathan tilted his head. “Is that...okay?”

“What?” Steve could feel his forced smile getting too wide. “Of course it is. It’s...yeah, of course it’s okay.” He made an awkward jerking motion with his shoulder. “I gotta run again, but, hey, see you around.”

“Yeah, see you,” Jonathan echoed. 

Steve walked out of the coffee shop, his heart hammering against his ribs.

.

He didn’t go to Coffee on the Corner the next morning, or the morning after that, or the morning after that. He knew he was being ridiculous, but it was just for one summer, right? He just had to grit his teeth and swallow that police station swill for a couple of months.

Except, his resolve was not that strong, and that police station swill was  _ nasty _ , and after a couple of weeks, Steve broke down and found himself going to Coffee on the Corner again. Maybe, he thought on the ride over, Jonathan wouldn’t even be there anymore. Two weeks was more than enough time to plot out a capstone project, right?

Wrong. Jonathan was sitting in his usual window seat when Steve walked in. They shared an awkward wave as Steve went up to the counter.

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” the barista commented.

“Uh, yeah,” Steve said, aware of how small the coffee shop was, and how easy it would be for Jonathan to listen to their conversation. “I’ve been uh, trying to cut back on the caffeine.”

She snorted. “The usual?”

“Yeah.”

When Steve had paid for his coffee and muffin and received both, he turned and headed for Jonathan’s table. “Hey,” he said weakly.

“You avoiding me?” Jonathan asked with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“No,” Steve lied. 

Jonathan snorted. “Okay.”

Steve glanced around and then pulled up the seat across from Jonathan. “You make me nervous.” He said bluntly. 

This was clearly not what Jonathan was expecting. “O-oh…?”

“I was  _ incredibly _ shitty to you, and you’ve only ever been nice to me,” Steve said. “With the exception of that time you handed my ass to me, and let’s be real, I deserved that.”

Jonathan actually smiled. “You kind of did,” he admitted. “But...I don’t feel like I’ve been nice to you.” The smile disappeared. “I...slept with Nancy when you two were…”

Steve shrugged. “She was always more into you than she was to me.”

Jonathan looked dumbstruck. “You don’t…?”

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, she ripped my heart out,” Steve said. “I just. I don’t know, I don’t hold it against you. Either of you.”

Jonathan’s mouth opened and closed. 

Steve shrugged again. “Anyway, I’ve always been just...intimidated by you, I guess, and it’s just kinda hard seeing a guy who’s better than me in almost every way casually hanging out where I get my morning coffee, you know?”

“I’m not--” Jonathan tried to say, but Steve stood up.

“I have to go,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” He didn’t wait for a response, just beelined out the door. His heart was hammering again, but he felt weirdly okay about it. At least it was out in the open now, the things he’d been too afraid to say before and maybe the things he hadn’t even known he’d been afraid of until now. 

.

Part of Steve was afraid that he’d scared off Jonathan, that the other guy would be so  _ nice _ that he’d stop frequenting Coffee on the Corner so that Steve didn’t have to see him or some shit. Steve may have been intimidated by Jonathan, but he didn’t want him to feel unwelcome in the only decent coffee shop in Hawkins. 

So he was relieved when he  _ did _ see Jonathan the next morning, sitting in his usual window seat. He waved at Jonathan, and Jonathan waved back, and Steve ordered his usual coffee and muffin. When he had both, he headed for Jonathan’s table.

“I was afraid I scared you off,” he admitted.

“Eh, it takes a lot to scare me,” Jonathan said with a small smile. He hesitated. “If it makes you uncomfortable--”

Steve shook his head. “I’m in here for five minutes a day, tops,” he said. “Please, keep doing your thing.”

Jonathan didn’t seem entirely convinced. 

“If you’re sure…”

“I’m sure. Besides, this is the only place in this town that serves decent coffee.”

Jonathan smiled. “Yeah, I’ve picked up on that.”

“Yeah.” Steve could only imagine how many coffee shops were around NYU, how paltry this must all seem to Jonathan. “Well…”

“I know--you’ve gotta go,” Jonathan said with a wry smile. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Steve said again. “Tomorrow.”

.

They kept it up for a little over a week, chatting for a few minutes every morning when Steve went to get his morning coffee and muffin. Steve got to be more and more comfortable with it, and maybe he was just projecting, but it felt like Jonathan was, too. 

And then Steve realized that he actually  _ liked _ talking to Jonathan, even if he couldn’t stand how freaking  _ nice _ the other guy was. Jonathan was  _ interesting _ . And he seemed interested in the things Steve had to say, even though Steve didn’t think his life was interesting at all. He was a small-town cop whose only friends were a bunch of teenagers who played Dungeons and Dragons. Jonathan...Jonathan was studying photography at NYU. He was smart. An intellectual. He felt sort of flattered that Jonathan was even talking to him at all. He probably had way more interesting discussions with people in New York, conversations about music and art and literature or whatever it is students at NYU talked about.

And one morning Steve found himself getting to the coffee shop a little earlier because honestly, he was just really looking forward to talking to Jonathan. And Jonathan was there, at his usual table, and when he looked up at Steve he smiled, and Steve just felt his whole entire body smiling.

And that was when he realized that maybe he liked Jonathan a lot more than he’d originally thought.

“I don’t know, he’s...cool,” Steve said when he was over at Dustin’s that night. The Hendersons had him over frequently, and it had become a rule that whoever cooked got to watch TV while the other person or people washed dishes. Since Claudia almost always cooked, Steve almost always ended up washing dishes. That was fine with him, because Claudia was a better cook than he was and he liked showing his appreciation of her. Dustin usually ended up helping Claudia cook  _ and _ helping Steve wash dishes, and that’s what he was doing tonight.

“He slept with Nancy while you two were still together.” Dustin pointed out.

“Nancy and I were fighting.” he countered. “And anyway, I wasn’t exactly the world’s greatest boyfriend.”

“You’re  _ defending _ them?”

“Yeah, I guess I am.” Steve said. “I thought you liked Nancy and Jonathan.”

Dustin shrugged. “I do, but I still think it was kinda shitty that they slept together when you guys hadn’t even officially broken up.”

“Okay...pretending that didn’t happen,” Steve said, tossing the dish rag over his shoulder. “I just think he’s cool, okay?”

“He’s definitely cool.” Dustin agreed. “Have you seen his stuff? I never got why photography was an art form until Will showed me some of his pieces. They’re like, super thought-provoking.”

“Yeah, I bet.” Steve hesitated. “What...happened with him and Nancy, anyway? Do you know?”

“I thought you didn’t care about him and Nancy.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Can you just drop it?”

“I don’t know what happened.” Dustin said. “I think it was a long distance thing. But you should just ask Jonathan since you guys are so close now.”

Steve rolled his eyes again.

“Why  _ do _ you care?”

Steve shrugged. “I don’t know...I feel like it’s almost...easier to like him now that he isn’t with Nancy. And I guess I just want to know that it’s like...a permanent breakup and not just them  _ taking _ a break, you know?”

Dustin nodded in understanding. “Well, it sounds pretty permanent,” he offered. “But you should really talk to Jonathan.”

“What are you boys talking about in there?” Claudia called from the living room.

“Jonathan Byers,” Dustin shouted back.

“Oh? How is he?”

Dustin smirked at Steve. “Apparently he’s  _ cool _ .”

“You are such a shithead. Steve hissed.

.

Even though he knew Dustin was right, Steve didn’t bring up Nancy. Instead, he asked questions about NYU and Jonathan’s capstone project.

“It’s based on the idea that like...people act like their true selves when they don’t think anyone’s looking,” Jonathan explained over their morning coffee. “It’s like…you can ask someone to describe themselves, but they’re giving you, like, this projection of who they think they are or who they want to be. But when they’re not thinking about this self-constructed image of themselves...that’s when you see who they really are.”

“A picture’s worth a thousand words.” Steve quipped.

Jonathan grinned. “Exactly.”

“So, you’re taking pictures of people when they don’t realize you are.” Steve surmised.

“Theoretically,” Jonathan said. “The only problem is that these photos will be displayed for public consumption, so people have to sign releases and understand the nature of the photos, so it kind of...ruins the spirit.”

Steve considered this. “And that’s what’s giving you trouble?”

Jonathan shrugged. “Yeah. I mean, my family gave me permission to photograph them whenever, but I can only photograph them so many times, you know? And then it’d become a piece about my family, when I want it to be about...all sorts of people.” 

Steve nodded. “So...what’s your plan?”

“I don’t...really have one,” Jonathan admitted. “I thought about just taking the photos and asking the subjects to sign releases later and not use photos that people didn’t agree to, but the fact that I took photos without initial consent is still...unethical.”

Steve couldn’t help remembering the photos Jonathan had taken of Nancy that night--and the camera he had bought and shyly asked Nancy to give to Jonathan for Christmas. He was sure that Jonathan was thinking of those things too. Or at least, he was thinking about the pictures he’d taken of Nancy. Steve still didn’t know if Jonathan knew that he was the one who’d bought the camera and not Nancy, and he wasn’t about to ask. 

“What if you got permission, but didn’t tell them when or where?” Steve asked. “Or like...if you went to an event where people know they might be photographed but aren’t necessarily posing, and then after you can ask permission to use the photos for your project?”

“That could work,” Jonathan said slowly. “But...what kind of event?”

Steve shrugged. “Picnics, weddings, birthday parties.”

“You’re assuming I ever go to those things.” Jonathan said with a small smile. 

“What, do intellectuals not have social lives?” 

Jonathan looked as if he was trying not to smile. “I’m hardly an intellectual, and anyway, it’s not that, it’s just...I’m not very popular.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Not with that attitude.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “Look, there’s gonna be this like...cookout that the police and the fire department have every year. It’s in a week. Why don’t you come to that one and take some test pictures? See how it goes?”

Jonathan considered his offer. “I don’t know...I don’t even think Hopper is planning to go.”

“So go with me,” Steve said. “You can be my hot date.”

They both laughed, and something unrecognizable twisted in Steve’s gut. God, why was he  _ acting like this _ ? 

He took another sip of his coffee. “Well,” he said, “It’s about time for me to head out, but...think about it, okay?”

“Okay,” Jonathan agreed. “I’ll think about it.”

Steve gave him a two-fingered salute and headed out the coffee shop, hoping, wildly, that Jonathan would say yes.


	2. Chapter 2

When he met up with Jonathan the next day, the other man had his answer.

“I think I will go with you.” He said as they ate their blueberry muffins. Jonathan had tried one after he kept seeing Steve eat them, and now he was just as addicted to the baked goods. 

“To the cookout?” 

Jonathan nodded. “Yeah. You’re right, it’s a good photography test. And...my mom thinks it’ll be good if I get out and socialize,” he admitted with a small smile. 

“She’s right.” Joyce was usually right about most things. Steve had gotten to know everyone’s respective parental figures pretty well since the events of November 1984, and while he liked everyone’s moms, he had a special kind of respect for Joyce. 

“Yeah, don’t push it.”

So, on the allotted Saturday, the two new friends went to the annual policeman-fireman cookout, and it was actually a lot of fun. There was a lot of food (mostly hotdogs, hamburgers, and chili) and beer, and since most of the guys had brought their families, there were lots of kids running around. Jonathan took some great candid shots of the kids playing and the guys standing around with beers and laughing. Steve’s favorite shot, though, had to be of a mother holding her little girl, the two of them gazing at each other with such tenderness that it was as if no one else existed in the world. He saw them being developed in the dark room Jonathan had set up in the basement of the house Joyce and Hopper had bought when they decided to move in together and combine their families. 

“Dustin wasn’t kidding.” he murmured.

“What?” Jonathan asked.

Steve shook his head. “Dustin said he didn’t think photography was an art form until he saw your stuff. He wasn’t kidding.”

And maybe it was just the red light, but Steve was sure that Jonathan was flushed. “That was nice of the little punk to say.”

“He’s a shithead, but he’s a genuine shithead.” Steve said. “Wait, that didn’t come out right…”

Jonathan chuckled as he hung up the pictures to dry. “Hey, um...thanks for inviting me out yesterday,” he mumbled. “You were right, it was a good idea. And...I had fun.” 

Steve grinned. “Toldja.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jonathan knocked shoulders with him. “Don’t let your head inflate anymore.”

Steve cleared his throat. “So, there’s gonna be this--”

There was a loud knocking on the basement door. “Jonathan?” Joyce was calling. 

“Don’t open the door yet, Mom!” Jonathan shouted.

“Okay, I just wanted to let you boys know I made lemonade for the kids and there’s more up here if you want some!”

“Thanks, Mom.” Jonathan smiled at Steve. “What were you saying?”

Steve shook his head. “I can’t remember. How long should we wait before…?”

“Just a few more minutes.”

Steve leaned against the wall and watched Jonathan finish up. Finally, the other boy nodded, and they headed up the stairs together.

The shitheads were all in the kitchen, drinking the lemonade Joyce had made for them. They looked up in interest when Steve and Jonathan walked in. 

“What were you two doing?” Max asked nosily.

“Working on Jonathan’s capstone project,” Steve said. “What were  _ you _ doing?”

“Kicking Dustin’s ass at Mario.”

“You are  _ aggressive _ , it’s  _ unhealthy _ ,” Dustin complained.

The kitchen exploded with chatter as the kids replayed the last hour. Most of it was lost on Steve, who had gotten pretty good at smiling and nodding when they started talking about nerd stuff he didn’t understand. Jonathan poured them both glasses of lemonade; when he handed Steve’s to him, there was a weird moment where Jonathan didn’t let go right away and they were both just...holding the glass and looking at each other.

Steve wasn’t sure what broke the spell, but it did, and Jonathan released the glass and Steve raised it to his lips with a shaky hand. He drank it all, in just two gulps, and then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Well,” he rasped. “I should head out.”

The shitheads didn’t hear him because they were so busy chattering--only Jonathan watched him walk out to his car. Steve felt like he was watching himself drive from a distance; after he parked the car in his driveway, he just...sat there. And watched himself. He watched himself sit in his car, and he watched himself in Jonathan’s dark room, and he watched him and Jonathan holding that stupid glass of lemonade between them. He began to understand what Jonathan’s project was really about. It wasn’t just about watching other people--it was about watching yourself, too. 

When he floated back to himself, he got out of the car and walked up the drive to his house. It was a small two bedroom rental house, the perfect size for a bachelor living on his own. The shitheads came over a lot, so he used the second bedroom as a combination exercise and guest room, and the sofa in his living room was a pull-out. Both the sofa and the guest bed had gotten their fair share of use from the kids crashing there, and it was with a twinge of loneliness that Steve realized they wouldn’t be used for a while. All the kids were going off to college in the fall, spreading out all over the country with their curiosity paddles.

Or whatever it was Dustin was always talking about.

And, lame as it sounded, Steve would be left without any real friends. Sure, he liked the other guys at the station well enough, and he kept up with a few people from high school, and he’d see the shitheads when they came home for breaks, but...well, it was kind of a daunting thought. What if the shitheads just...decided to stay out of Hawkins for good? Not that he’d  _ blame _ them, of course, but...well, he’d become a cop so that he could keep the people he cared about safe, and what was the point of that if the people he cared about weren’t even here? Everyone else was moving on to other things, and Steve would just be left here as the lighthouse keeper.

He went to the fridge, reached for a can of beer, and had just cracked it open when the phone rang. 

“Yello.”

“Hey, it’s...Jonathan.”

Steve hitched in a breath. “Hey,” he said. He could hear the shitheads chattering in the background. 

There was a long pause. “I um...I really did have a good time yesterday. And I thought maybe...if you were down...we could hang out...another time?”

“Yeah.” Steve exhaled. “Yeah, I was actually gonna say, there’s this, uh, grand opening this week, and it might be a good opportunity to--”

“I meant,” Jonathan interrupted. “Hang out, like...without a camera. For...fun.”

Steve’s breath hitched in his throat again, and he wondered what it was about Jonathan Byers that made something as simple as breathing so fucking hard. “Sure,” he said, his voice painfully high-pitched. “Yeah, yeah, what did you…? Have in mind?”

“Uh...I don’t know…” He heard the plastic crinkling of the cord moving. “Maybe we could just like...rent a couple movies and get a six pack and...shoot the shit or, or whatever.”

It sounded...perfect. Laid-back, nothing that Steve had to actually prepare for. “Yeah,” he found himself saying. “Yeah, man, that sounds like a plan.”

He heard a staticky exhale. “Cool.”

“I can host,” he offered. “Just...I don’t have any roommates or anything, and I know you’ve got your whole family there…”

“Yeah. Yeah, that would be great, if you don’t mind…”

“‘Course I don’t mind. Why don’t you pick the movies and I’ll order pizza?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“I’d offer to buy the beer, too, but I don’t know what kind of beer you pretentious NYU fucks drink.”

Jonathan laughed. “Really shitty stuff, actually, you probably wouldn’t like it.”

Steve found himself grinning at the Budweiser in his hand. “Yeah, I have a very refined palate, you know.”

“Yeah, I got that from your coffee order.”

“Oh,” Steve laughed. “What, they don’t like good coffee in New York?”

“Yeah, but like, NYU students are really pretentious about being starving artists, so we drink coffee that’s just as shitty as our beer.”

“Of course you do.”

“So, uh, I’ll bring shitty beer and a good movie…”

“And then I’ll let you have some of my far superior beer.”

“Sounds like a plan.” There was a noise on the other end. “Hey, um, I have to go, but...Wednesday sound good?”

“Wednesday,” Steve confirmed. “I get off at seven.”

“I’ll come over at eight?”

“Sounds good.”

When he hung up, Steve realized he was still grinning. He tried to make himself stop, but he couldn’t. How had he been so depressingly  _ lonely _ not even fifteen minutes ago?

He started to move to the living room, paused, and went to the calendar he kept next to the fridge. He never really used it, just kept it around because it made him feel like a responsible adult, but he reached for a pen and printed  _ Jonathan _ . The pen hovered as he wondered if he should write more, but then he remembered that he was the only one who’d be looking at the calendar, and it didn’t have to make sense to anyone but him. He capped the pen, picked up his beer, and went to the living room to watch TV. 

.

“Steve. My man.”

“What’s up, shithead?” 

“Let’s go see a movie on Wednesday. The new  _ Batman _ is out and it looks, like, super weird and cool.”

Steve bit back a smile. “Actually, uh, I have...plans on Wednesday.”

“You  _ do _ ?” Dustin asked in interest. Steve never had plans that didn’t involve the party.

“Yeah. Jonathan’s coming over, we’re gonna watch some movies.”

“ _ Oh _ ,” Dustin said, stretching the word to five smug syllables. “ _ Really _ ?”

“Don’t make it weird.”

“What, weirder than you’re already making it?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “What about Friday night?”

“No can do; it’s  _ my _ turn for a date on Friday.”

“Okay, first of all, it’s not a date, obviously. Second of all, who’s the lucky lady?”

“You don’t know her.”

“So?”

“Ugh, fine, she’s this like...insanely pretty girl from my history class and apparently she’s had a thing for me for months and was afraid to ask me out.”

“My man,” Steve said with a swoop of pride. It had been years ago, but he still remembered how upset Dustin had been when those girls wouldn’t dance with him at the Snow Ball. Even if Nancy  _ had _ taken pity on him, Dustin still felt humiliated that the girls his age didn’t like him. Now, he was a catch. No, Steve corrected, he’d always been a catch--girls just hadn’t always seen it. 

“I know,” Dustin said, sounding almost bashful. 

“Okay,” Steve said. “But I’ll see you and your mom on Thursday for dinner, right?”

“Yeah, you can tell us all about your date with Jonathan.” 

“Fuck off.”

There was a pause, and for a split second, Steve wondered if he’d actually offended Dustin. 

“Can I ask you something? Like, ask you a serious question that is in no way meant in disrespect?”

“Uh, sure?”

Dustin paused again. “Do you...like...guys?”

The question made Steve’s heart hammer against his ribs, like he was being asked a question he couldn’t answer truthfully. But he  _ didn’t _ like guys, did he? He  _ loved _ women. And, like, he’d  _ know _ by now if he was gay...wouldn’t he? 

“Steve?”

“No,” he said. “I don’t...like...guys.”

It was quiet for another long moment. “Are you sure?”

“What the hell, man? I start hanging out with Jonathan Byers and suddenly I’m gay?”

“I don’t know, man, maybe,” Dustin said, but he didn’t sound defensive or upset. “Max...she likes guys  _ and _ girls, you know? It’s not...it’s not like, impossible.”

“But  _ why _ ?” Steve asked. “Why is this a question you’re asking me?”

“Because I’ve never seen you get this excited about another person, like, ever,” Dustin said seriously. “And at Will and El’s house yesterday you guys were…”

“We were  _ what _ ?”

“There was an electricity,” Dustin said. “Like, before a storm.”

Steve closed his eyes. “I’m not talking about this anymore.”

Dustin surprised him by acquiescing. “Okay. We won’t talk about it anymore. Have fun on Wednesday, okay? And I’ll see you Thursday.”

“Okay,” Steve said. “Bye.”

“Bye.”

It took him several tries to put the phone on the receiver because his hands were shaking so hard. What the fuck. What the  _ fuck _ .


	3. Chapter 3

Steve was so weirded out by his conversation with Dustin that he didn’t go to Coffee on the Corner on Tuesday. He hated himself for it, but he didn’t know how he was supposed to just...sit across from Jonathan and act like everything was fine. 

But that was the stupid part, was that everything  _ was _ fine. Nothing was not fine. 

So why the hell was Steve so convinced something was wrong?

.

When he walked into Coffee on the Corner on Wednesday, the first thing he did was look for Jonathan, and he was surprised at how  _ relieved _ Jonathan looked. Like going a day without seeing Steve  _ worried _ him.

_ Do you like guys _ ?

Steve shook the thought from his head and smiled and waved at Jonathan. When he had his coffee and muffin, he sat in his usual seat.

“I didn’t see you yesterday.” Jonathan commented.

“Yeah, sorry, I overslept,” Steve lied. “I...I didn’t think you’d miss me for one morning.”

Jonathan smiled. “No, I’m just...getting used to you is all.”

Steve took an enormous bite of his muffin.

“We still on for tonight?”

“Of course,” Steve said around his muffin. He swallowed. “Bring on the intellectual art films.” 

“I can watch normal movies.” Jonathan laughed.

“You’re studying photography, of course you can’t just watch normal movies like the rest of us plebs.”

“I think you think I’m a lot smarter than I actually am.”

Steve hesitated. “Have you considered that you’re smarter than you think you are?”

Now it was Jonathan’s turn to hesitate. “Do you think I’m smarter than you?”

Steve took another bite of his muffin. “Maybe.”

Jonathan frowned. “Just because I go to NYU doesn’t like...it doesn’t mean I’m smarter than you or anyone else.”

“Uh, I think that’s exactly what it means.” He was getting uncomfortable with how, well, bald-faced everything was getting all of a sudden. 

Jonathan looked weirdly disappointed. “I’m not smarter than you.”

Steve shrugged, wishing he hadn’t come in today. “If you say so.”

“I’m  _ not _ .” Jonathan reached across the table, grabbed his wrist. “You’re good at so many things that I’ll never be good at. It’s all subjective, you know? Just because I got into a good school...it doesn’t mean I’m better than you.”

“Okay,” Steve said, looking at his coffee.

“Steve.”

“What?” he asked irritably, finally looking up. Jonathan was looking earnest.

“You’re smart. And you’re strong, and you’re good with people in a way I can never be. I study these stupid photographs because it’s the only way I feel like I understand people. You…” Jonathan released his wrist. “You take one look at someone and you just...you  _ get _ them. I’ve always been jealous of that.”

Steve shook his head. “This is a really intense conversation this early in the morning.”

Jonathan huffed out a small laugh. “I’m sorry, I get...carried away.”

“No, it’s fine.” Steve took a sip of his coffee. “Just...maybe save it for tonight, yeah? I feel like this makes a better conversation when it’s fueled by alcohol.”

“Fair enough.” Jonathan relaxed back into his seat, and they moved on to a different topic, for which Steve was grateful. 

After work that night, Steve spent a frantic half hour trying to make his house look presentable without  _ looking _ like he’d tried too hard. He’d just flopped onto the couch, trying to catch a breath, when Jonathan knocked on the door. He thought about waiting a beat or two, just so Jonathan didn’t think he was desperate, and then decided screw it, he lived in a small house, Jonathan had come at the designated time, and he wouldn’t have asked Steve to hang out if he didn’t like hanging out with him. He opened the door and grinned when he saw Jonathan standing there, a six-pack in one hand and three VHS tapes in the other. “Well, well, well,” he drawled. 

“Hey,” Jonathan said, stepping inside. 

“Hey. I haven’t ordered the pizza yet because I wasn’t sure what kind you wanted…”

“Oh, uh, anything is fine,” Jonathan said. “Just no anchovies.”

“Damn.”

Jonathan rolled his eyes good-naturedly, and Steve felt his grin widening. “Okay, what about cheese?”

“Fine with me.”

“I’d show you around the place, but...you’re pretty much looking at it.” Steve waved an expansive hand. “Welcome to Chez Harrington.”

“It’s nice.” Jonathan said. “Your living room is the size of my entire apartment in New York.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Apartments in New York, especially around NYU, are like, notoriously the size of sardine cans. My buddy shares one room with two other guys.”

“Jesus.” Steve led the way to the kitchen, where Jonathan put his beers in the fridge. “What’s your apartment like now?”

“It’s just three of us, and we all have our own rooms. The only problem is that the bathroom door won’t stay on its hinges so we had to just put up a shower curtain. It’s not, uh, ideal for when company comes over.”

“What if you have to take a dump?” Steve asked in horror.

Jonathan laughed. “Yeah, um, we put on music and turn it up...really loudly. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure the door is fixed when you come to visit.” 

Steve turned to open a beer.  _ When you come to visit _ . Not if.  _ When _ . “Hey, uh, I’ll go ahead and order the pizza.”

“Sounds good.”

They ordered a large cheese pizza and breadsticks and then migrated to the living room to put on a movie. Jonathan had brought  _ Spartacus _ ,  _ Midnight Cowboy _ , and  _ Heathers _ . Steve hadn’t seen any of them, but he knew that the first two were artsy films from the ‘60s, so it made sense that Jonathan would like them. The last one, however, had come out the year before and was a fairly popular movie, which didn’t seem like Jonathan’s cup of tea.

“It’s hard to explain,” he said. “It’s...a social commentary. But it’s definitely the lightest of the three.”

Steve considered his options. He was sure that  _ Spartacus _ was very important and intellectual, but he was also afraid that it would bore him or he wouldn’t get it. At least  _ Midnight Cowboy _ had the word “cowboy” in it, and Steve knew what cowboys were. He decided to try that movie first, and then lighten the mood after with  _ Heathers _ . And then, if they were still awake, they could watch  _ Spartacus _ and doze off. 

_ Midnight Cowboy _ was definitely a weird movie. He liked it, overall--more than a few times, he found himself grinning at the TV or laughing out loud. He could definitely see why Jonathan liked it. The bizarre concept, the unlikely friendship between Jon Voight and Dustin Hoffman. 

And then it took a turn and it just got so  _ sad _ , and maybe it was just the beers but Steve had this awful, awful ache in his chest, and when the movie ended and Jonathan turned to ask him what he thought, there were tears rolling down Steve’s cheeks. “What the hell, man?”

Jonathan bit back a smile. “Yeah, it’s...it’s a lot.”

Steve gestured wildly at the screen. “But he...they...the whole thing...what the fuck, dude!”

Jonathan couldn’t contain his grin now. “Yeah, I cried, like, so much the week after I saw it. I think about it a lot.” 

Steve wiped his eyes with the heels of his hand, too overwhelmed to even be embarrassed about the open display of emotion. “Fuck. Why did you do this to me?”

“I like to make people suffer.”

“Obviously, you sadistic fuck.”

They were quiet for a long moment, just staring at the blank screen. 

“I think,” Jonathan said after a moment. He cleared his throat. “I think it’s so sad because it’s so...they’re so  _ close _ , you know? They were almost there.”

“Yeah,” Steve croaked. “Do you remember The Little?”

Jonathan grinned at the reference to Hawkins High’s cruellest English teacher. “Yeah, I remember her.”

“Remember how she had all those quotes painted on her wall?”

“Yeah.”

“There was this one that I always stared at in class, because it was right in front of me and I hated looking at her.” Steve swallowed. “It was something like…‘Of all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these: it might have been.’”

“ _ Yeah _ ,” Jonathan breathed. 

They sat in silence for another moment.

“I need another drink.” Steve climbed to his feet. “You want one?”

“Yeah.”

When Steve padded back into the living room, Jonathan was rewinding  _ Midnight Cowboy _ . “Do you wanna keep watching movies, or have I sufficiently ruined the evening?”

Steve smiled. “I probably can’t do  _ Spartacus _ after that, but I could watch  _ Heathers _ .”

It was a cute movie, and considerably lightened the mood. They talked on and off, comparing characters to people with whom they’d gone to high school and getting off on tangents talking about those people. 

“You know what?” Steve said about halfway into the movie. “Winona Ryder looks just like your mom.”

Jonathan frowned. “What? No she doesn’t.”

“Dude, she totally does,” Steve insisted. “They even have the same, like, tonal inflections.”

Jonathan snorted. “You’re drunk.”

“A little,” Steve agreed. “But I’m right.”

Jonathan snorted again.

“No,” Steve said insistently. “People tell the truth when they drink. It’s when they’re sober that they lie.” He paused. “Well, not always. But like. You don’t have inhibitions when you drink, y’know? So you don’t feel like you gotta lie.”

Jonathan gave him an odd sort of smile. “Maybe I should stop drinking, then.”

Steve was struck by how odd the comment was, but he didn’t ask for Jonathan to explain--and later, he would reflect that maybe he had been  _ afraid _ that Jonathan would explain. Instead of responding to it, he found himself asking something far worse. “What happened to you and Nancy?”

Jonathan was quiet for a long moment, and Steve began to curse himself. They’d been having a great night, getting along just fine, and he had to ruin it with that stupid fucking question. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have—“

“No, it’s okay.” Jonathan assured him. “It was just...it was a lot of things. Like, we never saw each other because of school, and she’d cancel weekend trips last minute because she had to study. And I didn’t...I wasn’t mad at her, but it just became so much...emotional investment, you know?” He ran a hand through his hair. “And I felt like when I  _ did _ get to see her, we were two completely different people. Like we’d both done so much growing as individuals but as a couple we were just...stagnant. We’d try to talk and it was like instead of a few days, we hadn’t talked in years. And...I didn’t like it, and I don’t think Nancy did either. We started talking less and less, and then when we saw each other at Christmas...we just broke up.” He shrugged, giving Steve a small smile. “Took five minutes. No tears or anything.” 

Steve absorbed this. He was almost...disappointed. As if he’d wanted there to be something more, as if he’d wanted Jonathan to reveal some deep, dark secret. But it was just a normal, amicable breakup. “And have you...dated? Since?”  _ What the fuck why are you asking him this?! _

Jonathan gave him another smile. “Yeah. You interested?”

Steve snorted. “You wish, Byers.” 

They fell silent after that, just sitting on the floor (why they had ended up on the floor when they’d started on the couch, Steve didn’t understand) and watching the movie. They finished off another couple of beers, and by the time the movie was over, they were both in a pleasantly sleepy stupor. It was late, and Steve groaned at the thought of going to work in the morning. He’d known he would be up late eating greasy pizza and drinking beer, but it had seemed manageable at the time--he stayed up late ingesting unhealthy shit all the time. The reality of getting up in the morning and going through a full work day was already giving him a dull headache, as if his body was warming up for a hangover. 

“I think I gotta go to bed,” he groaned, shifting. 

“Yeah,” Jonathan said. He pushed himself up. “Is it okay if I leave my car here? I don’t think I should drive--I can pick it up tomorrow.”

“Dude, I’m not letting you walk home.” Steve felt stupid for not having thought about this earlier. Of course Jonathan couldn’t drive home after the number of beers he’d had and with how sleepy he was, and it was way too far to walk. “You’re staying here.”

Jonathan shook his head. “No, you don’t have to…”

“Well, I’m not letting you walk and I’m not letting you drive, and I’m not in shape to give you a ride, so looks like you’re crashing on my couch.” 

Jonathan still looked hesitant, so Steve stood up to look him in the eye. “The shitheads crash on this couch all the time, and I’m willing to bet you’re not half as much a pain in the ass to put up for the night as they are. Seriously, it’s not a problem.”

Jonathan shifted from one foot to another. “I mean...if you’re sure…”

Steve squeezed his shoulder. “I’m  _ positive _ . Mi casa es su casa.” He gave his shoulder another squeeze and then moved to the closet, where he kept the spare sheets and pillows. While Jonathan cleaned up the beer cans and folded up the empty pizza box, Steve made up the pull-out sofa. This done, he poured two glasses of water and gave one to Jonathan. “Water’s in the tap, food’s in the fridge, help yourself to anything.” He pointed. “Bathroom’s in there, you’re welcome to use the shower and whatever. Unlike you, I have a working bathroom door, so you don’t have to put on music if you take a dump.”

Jonathan grinned. “I’ll try not to--force of habit, you know.”

They stood like that for a moment, just smiling at each other in that stupid, sleepy haze. The moment stretched, and it became way too long, and their smiles faded, and the room was suddenly full of…

Electricity.

The kiss was slow, but it happened so fast. It was Jonathan who closed the gap between them, his touch tentative and careful, but it was Steve who deepened the kiss, digging his fingers into Jonathan’s hips and backing him into the counter. They were clumsy but determined, lips and hands exploring skin and bone and pulse. It was nice, it was  _ good _ , it was so laughably comfortable that Steve couldn’t help smiling. It was just...what had he been so afraid of? 

“Was this your plan all along?” he asked.

“Maybe,” Jonathan admitted bashfully. They couldn’t stop kissing and touching each other, like they were drunk kids at a party. It occurred to Steve that they  _ were _ a little drunk--buzzed at the very least. And it also occurred to Steve that even if they weren’t, this was a lot and he didn’t know where it was going.

“Hey,” he said, wrenching his lips away from Jonathan’s at long last. He breathed heavily, still holding Jonathan against him. “I...this is great,” he said, because he felt like it was important to give a compliment. “Really. I just…”

Jonathan’s face fell. “You want me to stop.”

“No,” Steve said quickly. “On the contrary, I very much do not want you to stop.” He kissed him to demonstrate just how much he didn’t want him to stop. “It’s just…” He nuzzled Jonathan. “I don’t...think I’m ready to do like...anything more than this for now.” 

“Totally,” Jonathan said at once. “No, we’ve been drinking and this is…”

“It’s really new for me,” Steve said.

“Yeah, me too.”

“We should take it slow.”

“Yeah, totally.”

But somehow, they ended up making out in Steve’s bed, hands roaming and hips pressing. They stopped, panting. “We should take it slow,” they said at the same time. 

Steve flopped back, running a hand through his hair. Jonathan propped up his head on his hand. “So am I your first guy?”

Steve grinned. He seemed to be doing a lot of that tonight. “Yeah. Didn’t even know I was into guys until…” He started to say  _ until tonight _ , but that wasn’t true, was it? Dustin had known the other night, and Steve was starting to realize that he’d known then, too. “Well,” he said. “Until you showed up.”

Jonathan looked almost smug. 

“Don’t give me that look.”

“Sorry, it’s just…” Jonathan flushed. “High praise.”

Steve rolled onto his side and kissed him again. “I’m guessing I wasn’t your first guy.”

Jonathan stiffened. 

“It’s okay,” Steve said. “You seem...I don’t know. Like you know what you’re doing.”

“That’s funny, because I definitely don’t feel like I do.” He hesitated, then reached for Steve’s hand. 

“Who was he? Them?”

Jonathan was quiet for a moment. Steve was starting to understand that Jonathan needed a moment or two, sometimes, before he said something important. That Jonathan really had to think about what he was saying before he said it. 

“He’s this...guy from the photography program. Couple years ahead of me. His portfolio was...incredible. I’ve never seen anyone photograph with that much... _ life _ . He was one of those people who like...reaffirmed why I went into photography in the first place.” Jonathan shifted. “I had no idea what I was doing, but...it’s New York, you know? I know...people who are...who are like that. Like us. So I wasn’t...I wasn’t in denial or anything. I didn’t have this grand realization. I just. I don’t know, it’s like I already knew.” A small smile flitted across his face. “That whole semester we had a class together...it’s like I was on something. Time just kinda flew right past me.”

They were quiet for a long moment.

“Was it just him?” Steve murmured.

“He was the only guy I ever slept with. I kissed a couple at parties, but…” He shrugged. “I don’t know. I never really...dated a guy. Holden and I had sex but it wasn’t...it wasn’t like a real relationship.”

Steve’s lips curled. “I’m sorry, his name is  _ Holden _ ? Like... _ Catcher in the Rye _ ?”

Jonathan buried his face in the pillow. “I know.”

“Weren’t you, like,  _ just _ trying to convince me you weren’t a pretentious stereotype?”

Jonathan groaned in response. 

They talked for a while--mostly about liking other men, about the thoughts and feelings they’d had that they hadn’t understood at the time. 

“Does your family know?” 

Jonathan shrugged. “Will knows. I haven’t told anyone else but...I feel like my mom might suspect.”

Steve had a feeling that Joyce knew her sons better than they even knew themselves, and just because Jonathan hadn’t outright told her didn’t mean she didn’t already know. 

“Is it cool if we stop talking about my mom now?” Jonathan asked. “Because...I really want to kiss you again.”

And that was pretty much the end of the conversation. 

When Steve woke up hours later, it was to find his hands entwined with Jonathan’s, their faces inches apart. Jonathan’s brown eyes were open, gazing into his with a tender sort of attention. 

“Have you been staring lovingly at me all morning?” Steve croaked.

“Not all morning.” he said with a grin. “Just a few minutes.”

“Is it safe to assume you don’t think last night was a mistake?”

Jonathan shook his head. “No. Do you?”

Steve shook his head back. “No way.” He paused. “I’d kiss you, but I totally have morning breath.”

“So do I.” Jonathan pressed his lips to Steve’s, gave him careful, closed-mouth kisses. But gradually these turned into hotter, open-mouthed kisses. They both had morning breath, hadn’t brushed their teeth since the pizza and beer last night, but it felt much too nice to stop. But the angle was awkward after a while, so Steve rose up, straddled Jonathan’s lap and reached down to better kiss him. And, god, it was  _ hot _ . And maybe it was just because they weren’t buzzed this time, and maybe it was because they had that problem that most guys had in the morning, but after a few minutes it became. Well, Steve pulled back, giving Jonathan a sheepish grin.

“I have to get ready for work.”

“Yeah.” Jonathan said with a sigh. 

“I’m gonna…” He gestured lamely towards the bathroom. “Take a shower and stuff. Do you need anything?”

Jonathan shook his head. “Shower when I get home.”

“Okay.” Steve hesitated. “Will you...wait for me?”

Jonathan grinned. “Yeah.”

“Cool.” Steve kissed him, one more time, and then lurched off the bed, grabbing some underclothes and his uniform before heading into the bathroom. The whole time he spent in his morning routine, he kept thinking about the man in the other room. It was just. It was bizarre. No, it  _ should _ have been bizarre, but somehow...it wasn’t. Steve had never thought he was into other guys, let alone the guy who his girlfriend had left him for, but...well. There were a lot of things Steve had never thought that had ended up happening anyway. And, really, this was not the weirdest thing that had happened to him. Definitely not weirder than Barb disappearing into his pool, or the demogorgon, or the demo _ dogs _ , or even becoming the unofficial babysitter of a pack of shithead children who he loved. Fooling around with Jonathan Byers wasn’t bizarre. It was  _ nice _ .

And it was nice, too, to walk out of the bathroom, freshly shaved and showered and dressed, to find Jonathan lounging on his bed, looking soft and sleep-rumpled. He sat up when Steve entered, smiling. “You free tonight?”

Steve winced. “I have dinner with Dustin and his mom tonight.”

Jonathan shrugged. “It’s cool.”

“Tomorrow night?”

He grinned. “That would be cool.”

“Cool. And...I’ll see you for coffee tomorrow?”

Jonathan’s grin grew. “Of course.”

“I’d offer to have coffee with you today, but I’m already gonna be pushing it.” 

That didn’t stop them from making out for another ten minutes, at which point Steve really was going to be late. They stumbled out to their respective cars, grinning at each other as they climbed in and started the ignition. Steve was still grinning when he pulled up to the station, jogging inside.

“Station coffee?” Powell observed as Steve poured himself a cup. “And a shit-eating grin? Someone got lucky last night.”

“No such thing,” Steve said. “Just in a good mood is all.”

“Because you got laid?”

Steve gave Powell and Callahan the finger. They just chortled in response. 

“Harrington,” Hopper called from his office.

Steve froze, wondering if Hopper had heard Callahan and Powell’s ribbing. He sauntered as casually as possible into Hopper’s office and flashed the chief a winning smile. “Morning, Chief.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Hopper leaned back in his seat. “Jonathan slept at your place last night, right?”

“Ayup.” Steve said.

Hopper nodded. “I figured, just wanted to make sure. Joyce...worries.”

Steve felt guilty. “I’m sorry, I didn’t--”

Hopper waved a hand. “It’s fine, she’s fine.” He eyed the coffee cup in Steve’s hand. “You boys have fun?”

“Uh, yeah,” Steve said. “A lot of fun.”

Hopper didn’t seem interested in pursuing the conversation, so Steve went to his own desk and tried not to think too much about Jonathan.

After work, he swung by his place, changed out of his uniform, and went to the Henderson house. He and Dustin were making dinner tonight, though Claudia, as always, couldn’t resist helping here and there. 

“So how was your date with Jonathan?” Dustin teased.

Steve’s face went red.

“Holy shit,” Dustin said. “It  _ was _ a date, wasn’t it?!”

“You had a date?” Claudia asked, popping up from the couch.

Steve and Dustin glanced at each other, panicked. 

“I was just teasing him.” Dustin said.

Claudia looked disappointed. “Oh. Well, don’t forget the oregano.” She settled back to watch TV.

“So?” Dustin asked, lowering his voice. “What happened?”

Steve kept his gaze on the carrots he was chopping. “He came over. We watched some movies.”

“ _ And _ ?”

“And...then we made out. A lot.”

“I knew it!” Dustin shouted.

“Hey!” Steve glanced at the couch, where Claudia was still watching TV.

“Sorry,” Dustin amended quietly. “So did you...sleep together?”

“We didn’t...do that,” Steve muttered. “But we did sleep next to each other.”

“Oh my  _ god _ .” Dustin was ecstatic. “And this morning?!”

“We made out again.”

Dustin looked as if he could barely contain himself. “Are you seeing him again?”

“Tomorrow night.” He paused. “And tomorrow morning for coffee, I guess.”

“Damn.” Dustin stirred the sauce. “So are you like, seeing each other in an official capacity?”

“I don’t know, dude. I didn’t even know I liked dudes until yesterday.”

“Oh, I think you knew before that.”

Steve sighed. “Yeah, probably, but I was like...in denial.”

“Well, I’m happy for you.” Dustin said. “And I hope it like. Works out.”

“Thanks, dude.” Steve didn’t even know what “it” was. He knew that he liked Jonathan and wanted to spend more time with him. But, he realized, Jonathan would be going back to New York at the end of the summer, and then…

Well. He wouldn’t think about that right now. It was barely July. There was a solid month and a half before anything had to be figured out.  _ If _ there was even anything to figure out. 

When he saw Jonathan at Coffee on the Corner the next day, however, he knew that he wanted to work out  _ something _ . He sat down with his coffee and muffin and smiled at Jonathan.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” Jonathan shifted. “It feels…”

“Like a really long time.” Steve finished.

“Yeah. Way more than twenty four hours.” Jonathan shifted. “So...what do you want to do tonight?”

“I don’t know.” Steve’s leg jiggled. “Uh...there’s always the Hawk?”

“Yeah,” Jonathan said. “Do you know what’s out?”

Steve thought about it. “Or,” he said. “We could just rent some movies and fool around at my place again.”

Jonathan’s face split into a grin. “I like that idea. Just...no pizza and beer this time.”

“No pizza and beer.”

“I can...come by around eight again?”

Steve sipped his coffee. “Eight’s good.”

So, Jonathan showed up at eight with three more VHS tapes. He’d barely gotten inside, however, when Steve closed the door behind him and kissed him, pressing him against the front door. They made out for almost two hours and only stopped because Steve’s stomach wouldn’t stop growling. They made spaghetti and sat on the couch to watch one of the movies Jonathan had brought. They decided on  _ Rear Window _ , a Hitchcock film about a detective who’s confined to his apartment and spends his time spying on his neighbors.

“I know it’s ironic,” Jonathan said. “But I think it’s why I got so attached to taking pictures in the first place. I felt like something was holding me back, sort of like Jimmy Stewart’s wheelchair, and instead of using binoculars...I used cameras.”

“God, why is everything you say so profound?” 

“Shut up, it is not.”

“It totally is.” Steve insisted. “You literally just used a wheelchair as a metaphor for your life, dude.”

“It’s not that profound.”

“It is.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

He did. He tasted like tomato sauce. 

They settled back to watch more of the movie. By the time they were finished with the spaghetti, they were too full to fool around, so they popped in another video--this time, the old  _ Creature from the Black Lagoon _ movie. It was bad, but a really fun kind of bad. By the time it was over, Steve was falling asleep in Jonathan’s lap.

“You should go to bed.” Jonathan said quietly.

“But I’m so comfortable,” Steve whined. 

“You’d be more comfortable in your bed.”

Steve huffed but allowed Jonathan to ease him from his lap. Jonathan took his hand, guiding him to his bedroom, and sat him on the bed.

Except, by the time they made it to the bed, Steve was wide awake. “Wanna fool around?”

Jonathan smiled. “Thought we were trying to take things slow.”

“You didn’t answer the question, Byers.”

Jonathan moved closer to Steve, his eyes never leaving the other man’s. Slowly, he lowered himself to straddle Steve’s lap. He lowered his head and kissed Steve, long and lingering. “See?” he murmured. “Slow.”

“Who knew you were such a tease?”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

And for the second time that night, Jonathan did.

He ended up staying over again, his arms and legs twined with Steve’s. In the morning, they made pancakes and ate them on the couch while they watched  _ Mystery Science Theater 3000 _ . Around noon, Steve got up, stretching. “I’m gonna take a shower.”

“Okay.”

“You gonna be good for the next twenty minutes?”

“I’ll try not to burn the house down.”

“Gee, thanks.” Steve padded to the bathroom and turned up the hot water. He shed his clothes and stepped inside, sighing at the feel of the steaming hot water on his skin. He was reaching for the shampoo when he heard the door open; a moment later, the curtain parted, revealing a still-clothed Jonathan. 

“Do you want company?” Jonathan asked as levelly as it was possible to under the circumstances.

Steve considered him. “What happened to taking it slow?”

Jonathan shrugged. “I’m okay moving a little faster if you are.”

Steve nodded. “How fast is ‘I wanna be naked with you but I have no idea what I’m doing?’”

Jonathan grinned. “I think that’s just the right speed.”

“Then get in here.”

So he did.


	4. Chapter 4

Jonathan ended up staying the entire weekend. They hadn’t meant for it to happen, but it was impossible to leave each other’s arms. Saturday melted into Saturday night, and Saturday melted into Sunday, and Sunday melted into Sunday evening, and finally Jonathan decided that he really should go home. 

“You know, Fourth of July is on Tuesday,” Steve said while Jonathan pulled on his clothes. 

“Yeah, Hopper has to help out with the parade and he’s pissed about it.”

“Yeah, I have to help out too.” Steve cleared his throat. “But after, there are gonna be fireworks over Lover’s Lake...I thought maybe...if you want…”

Jonathan grinned as he pulled his shirt over his head. “Are you asking me on a date?”

“Uh...yeah, I guess I am.”

Jonathan considered. “Hopper’s having a cookout at our house--we’re having the Wheelers and the Sinclairs over, and I think Max and Dustin are coming too.” He paused. “Maybe you could...come? And then after we can go to the lake?”

Steve smiled. “I’d like that.”

Jonathan smiled back. “Good. I’ll see you there.”

.

On Monday night, Dustin, Max, and Lucas invited themselves over to play Scrabble. 

“So you and Jonathan Byers?” Max said with a grin.

Steve glared at Dustin.

“In my defense,” Dustin said, “I didn’t know anyone else in Hawkins who’s...you know…”

“Who plays for both teams?” Max leaned back in her chair. “I think you’d actually be surprised.”

“ _ Really _ ?”

“She’s convinced Will is gay.” Lucas said. 

“Will  _ Byers _ ?”

“I’m telling you, he’s gay,” Max insisted. “Steve, back me up on this.”

He raised his hands. “Don’t drag me into this.”

“Too late, you’ve been dragged.”

“I guess it would make sense.” Dustin spoke up. “I mean, look at Jonathan.”

“ _ Speaking of _ ,” Max said, turning a wicked grin towards Steve. “How’s that going?”

Steve hesitated before saying anything. He wasn’t sure how much he wanted to divulge to the shitheads. “It’s fine.”

“ _ Fine _ ,” Lucas repeated. “Just  _ fine _ ?”

“Yeah. It’s fine.”

“Are you guys, like, together?”

“Uh...I don’t know,” he admitted. “We’re going on a date on Tuesday.”

The three of them erupted in a chorus of “oooohs”. 

“Shut up.”

“Date on the Fourth of July? How original.” Dustin snorted.

“He’s just pissy because he doesn’t have a date,” Max said.

“Neither does Will,” Lucas pointed out. “He can be your date.”

“I’m not into dudes.” Dustin said. “No offense, Steve.”

“None taken?”

“And Will might not be either, for all we know.”

“My gaydar is exceptional.”

“Your  _ gaydar _ ?”

“Yeah. Gay radar.”

“That can’t be a real thing,” Steve said. “What, you just... _ ping _ when someone’s gay?”

“Something like that, yeah.” Max lay down a tile. “Don’t worry, young grasshopper--someday you, too, will possess a stellar gaydar. All the gays do.”

Steve opened his mouth to argue and then decided against it. “Okay, whose fucking turn is it?”

It made him feel better, though, that they were so...calm about it. Well, not calm, but. They weren’t freaking out. They didn’t think he was weird or want to stop hanging out with him. So, that was good. 

On Tuesday, Steve had to get up earlier than usual to handle the parade. Floats were being organized as early as six a.m., much to his displeasure--especially since he knew that the parade wouldn’t last more than an hour. He did a lot of standing around and drinking coffee--which, in fairness, wasn’t much different from what he did normally. Once the parade was over (he timed it, it was fifty-four minutes exactly), he went home to shower and change into plain clothes. This done, he drove to the Hopper house. The cookout was in full swing by the time he got there; Hopper and Mr. Sinclair were drinking beers by the grill, Joyce, Karen, Claudia, Tara, and Susan were all chatting under the shade of the patio umbrella, Mike was pushing El on the swings, Max and Erica were terrorizing Dustin, Lucas, and Will with water guns and water balloons, Holly and Murray were munching on hotdogs, and Jonathan was taking pictures of it all. He smiled when he saw Steve.

“Hi, Steve!” he moms all chorused, and he spent a few minutes catching up with them. They all liked Steve. 

“You made it,” Jonathan murmured when Steve finally meandered over to him.

“Eh, I’m only here for the free food.”

“Of course.”

Steve was tempted to kiss him, and he almost did before he remembered how many people were around them. Instead, he smiled. “You getting good pictures?”

“Tons. Everyone’s so...unselfconscious. It’s really cool.”

“Steve,” Hopper called. “You want a burger?”

“Yes, please, Chief.”

The cookout was fun. It was all of Steve’s favorite people in the laid-back privacy of Hopper’s backyard. The food was good, the beer was good, and when the July sun got too hot it wasn’t hard to convince Max to shoot him with a water gun. 

Sometime during the late afternoon, Jonathan asked Steve if he wanted to come with him to develop the photos he’d taken. Steve did, and he followed Jonathan into the house and down to the basement. Jonathan flicked on the red lights, set down his camera, and surprised Steve by kissing hungrily.

“I’ve been wanting to do that all day.” he admitted. “I just needed an excuse to get you alone.”

Steve grinned. “Well, well, Mr. Byers, you  _ are _ sneaky.”

They fooled around for nearly an hour--they lost track of time in the red light of Jonathan’s basement. When they came back outside, the sky was streaked in pink and the sun was beginning to set. Holly and El had sparklers, and Max’s hair and tank top suggested someone finally paid her back for the water gun. Steve and Jonathan hung out for a bit longer and then drove to Lover’s Lake to watch the fireworks. They sat on the hood of Jonathan’s car and watched, and when the splendor started to fade, Steve leaned over and kissed Jonathan. It was the most public kiss they’d ever had--even if they were at the top of an incline and everyone below them was watching the fireworks. 

“This is probably the best first date I’ve ever had.” Jonathan admitted.

Steve grinned. “Me too.” He kissed him again, and squeezed his hand, and then laid back to watch the rest of the fireworks.

.

The next evening, Jonathan showed Steve some of the photos he’d developed. They were honestly beautiful. Steve was surprised to see pictures of himself among them. He looked...so different. Recognizable still, of course, but in the way that made him do a double take. It was like when he looked in the mirror and forgot, for a moment, that the person looking back at him was  _ him _ .

“Is this how you see me?” he asked. 

Jonathan ducked his head. “Yeah.

Steve didn’t really know what to make of it. Maybe, he thought, he wasn’t supposed to. 

.

Thursday night was dinner with the Hendersons, and this time it was Claudia’s turn to cook. She bustled around the kitchen while Steve and Dustin watched TV. Tews, as usual, had taken up residence on Steve’s lap. 

“Dude, did you say anything to your mom?”

“Oh my god, no.” Dustin looked annoyed. “I’m not gonna tell my mom you like dick, okay?”

“Shh!” Steve hissed, glancing at the kitchen. Claudia did not appear to have heard. “She’s been...giving me looks.”

“Looks?”

“Like she knows.”

“I think you’re just paranoid.”

“Yeah,” Steve sighed. “Probably.”

But when they sat down to eat, Claudia kept giving him looks, and Steve knew that he wasn’t just being paranoid. He wasn’t about to test his luck by saying anything, though, so he waited for her cue.

It didn’t take long.

“So...Steve.” she said, smiling over her peas and carrots. “You and Jonathan Byers have been spending a lot of time together lately, haven’t you?”

Steve shot Dustin a dirty look. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“So are you two official or what?”

Dustin choked on his water. Steve reached over and thumped him on the back. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, come on, Steve!” she crowed. “You disappeared for almost an  _ hour _ at the Fourth of July party and today you’ve got a hickey!”

“ _ What _ ?” yelped Steve, running to the bathroom mirror to check. “I don’t see a hickey!”

“That’s because it’s on the back of your neck, dear.”

“Shit.”

Dustin burst into laughter as Steve reappeared at the table, red-faced. Claudia looked like the cat who’d got the cream. “You were saying?”

Steve took a seat. “Are you…” He paused. “Aren’t you, like, weirded out?”

She shrugged. “No. Dusty doesn’t remember, but we used to live next to a couple. They were so nice. And gosh, they really loved each other. We exchange Christmas cards--they’re still together.”

Dustin’s mouth was hanging open. “You didn’t tell me that!”

“It’s not like you would remember them--you were three when we moved,” she said, rolling her eyes. She turned back to Steve. “I think it’s great that you found somebody. You deserve to be happy, Steve.”

He blinked. “Thanks, Claudia.”

She reached across the table and patted his hand. “You’re so brave, and Dusty and I are so proud of you. Right, Dusty?”

“Absolutely.” Dustin said at once. “We’re here for you, dude.”

“Thanks...dude.”

Claudia smiled. “So?  _ Are _ you two official? Or are you just, you know, having fun?”

“ _ Mom _ .”

“What, I’m just asking!”

“I don’t really know,” Steve said before Dustin could retort. “We’re just...I don’t know. It’s all new.”

“Have you had sex yet?”

“MOM!” Dustin shouted. “You can’t just ask my friends if they’ve had sex!”

“Why? You told me when you started having sex.”

“ _ MOM _ !”

.

Jonathan came over again on Friday and ended up spending the night again.

“I’m not staying the whole weekend this time,” he said.

He ended up staying the whole weekend.

“Do you think your family...you know...suspects anything?” Steve asked when Jonathan pulled on his clothes on Sunday afternoon.

Jonathan shrugged. “I think they think it’s weird that we’re spending so much time together, but more because of Nancy than because they suspect we’re...you know...a thing.”

Steve took a long moment to find the words he wanted to say. “Should we...tell them?”

“We?” Jonathan repeated with a wry look. “So we’re a we now?”

“Aren’t we?” Steve asked quietly.

Jonathan hesitated. Feeling sick, Steve rolled over. “Never mind--”

“Do you want to be?”

Steve looked over at him. “Kinda, yeah.”

Jonathan considered. “It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just...I tried doing long distance with Nancy. It wasn’t even that long of a distance. And it didn’t work. It’s a lot farther from New York to Hawkins. I don’t want to. I don’t know. Commit to something just for it to fall through again.”

“Right.” He got it, he did. Long distance was hard. It killed a lot of relationships. Like Jonathan and Nancy’s. The distance could get to them, and it wouldn’t be helped by attractive intellectuals named Holden, which, Steve was positive, were fairly peppered over NYU’s campus.

Jonathan surprised him by flopping back on the bed. “But I’d be willing to try it. With you.”

Steve smiled. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Jonathan traced circles on Steve’s leg. “I’ll be home next summer, probably. And for Christmas. And there’s fall break. And spring break. Mom would help me pay for a plane ticket, probably. And you could...you could come visit. If it’s not too much trouble.”

“I get vacation days.” Steve offered. “I don’t really use ‘em, so I have a lot stored up. I could...I could use them. To come see you. In New York.”

“I’d like that.” Jonathan said softly.

Steve hesitated, and then leaned down to kiss Jonathan.

His boyfriend.


	5. Chapter 5

They made a plan to tell Jonathan’s family. They would have a family dinner with Steve, and then they’d tell the Byers-Hopper family that they were dating. 

Except, it didn’t happen like that.

Jonathan wasn’t in the coffee shop on Monday morning, which was kind of weird, but not enough to fully weird Steve out. Maybe Jonathan was just sleeping in or something.

But when Steve got to the police department, he just  _ knew _ that something was off.

“Steve,” Flo said. “Chief wants to see you in his office.”

Powell and Harrington raised their eyebrows but thankfully said nothing. Steve steeled himself before walking down the hall and into Hopper’s office.

Hopper didn’t look up. “Sit down. Shut the door.”

Steve did as he was told, trying not to let his nerves show. 

Hopper spent a long time writing something on the paper in front of him. Steve had a feeling that it was an intimidation tactic.

It was working.

“So,” Hopper said at long last. “What are your intentions with my stepson?”

Steve went into a cold sweat. “Uhhhh…”

“I’m just kidding!” Hopper boomed, laughing as he finally looked up. “I just wanted to say that you don’t have to sneak around anymore. We know.”

“He told you?” Steve asked, hardly daring to believe he wasn’t getting torn a new one.

Hopper snorted. “Please, Joyce figured it out ages ago. We were just waiting for you two to say something. She had to pry it out of Jonathan last night.”

Steve slumped in relief. “So you’re...you’re okay with it? With...us?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

Steve shrugged. “I don’t know, people can be...uncomfortable with that sort of thing.”

“People are uncomfortable with a lot of stuff. Don’t let it stop you. Anyway, Joyce wants you to come over for dinner tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“I know,” Hopper said, making a face. “She just has to get it out of her system.”

“Get  _ what _ out of her system?”

“You know, the whole...meeting your child’s significant other thing.”

“But Joyce knows me.”

“Not as Jonathan’s  _ boyfriend _ . Just. Come over for dinner tonight.”

“Yes, Chief.” He gets up, but Hopper points at him. “And Harrington.”

“Yes?”

“I’m gonna tell you the same thing I’d tell any other boyfriend. If you hurt Jonathan, I have a shotgun, and I  _ will _ make it look like an accident.”

Steve gave him a salute. “Good talk, Chief.”

.

At the end of the day, Steve headed over to the Byers-Hopper house. He stopped at the grocery store to get a chocolate pie, figuring it was better to err on the side of caution, and then went home to change into nicer clothes. 

He was nervous, which was stupid, because he knew Jonathan’s family. It wasn’t like meeting a girlfriend’s parents for the first time and wondering what you were supposed to lie about and whether or not their dad would threaten you with a shotgun. 

(Although technically Hopper had already threatened him with a shotgun.)

No, he already knew Jonathan’s family, so it shouldn’t have been weird, except...it was. He and Jonathan knew each other before this summer, but they weren’t  _ friends _ , and even Will didn’t hang out with Steve as much as the other kids. And now that he was dating Jonathan…

He pulled up to the Byers house with jittery nerves, taking the pie out of the passenger seat and going up to the front door. It opened before he could knock, Jonathan standing in the doorway.

“I’m sorry,” he said at once. “I didn’t know they were going to...ambush you like that.”

“It’s okay,” Steve reassured him. “I brought pie?”

Jonathan smiled. “You didn’t have to.” 

“Yeah, but, you know. Dinner with the family. Wanted to make a good impression.”

“They  _ know _ you.”

“I know, but...you know.” 

Jonathan smiled. “You’re cute.”

“ _ You’re _ cute.” Steve said, and it was at that moment that Joyce appeared behind Jonathan, a look of barely-contained joy on her face.

“Hi, Steve!” she said excitedly. “Come on in!”

“Thanks, Joyce.” He handed her the pie. “I brought pie.”

“Oh, that’s so nice of you! What a thoughtful young man!” 

“Hey, Harrington,” Hopper said from the living room, where he was watching TV with El and Will. “Hey, I was watching that!”

El, who was changing channels with her mind, huffed and went back to the football game. 

“Well, dinner’s almost ready! Jim, honey, you wanna help me in the kitchen?”

“Yes, dear.” 

Steve, Jonathan, Will, and El settled in the living room, watching TV--which El was still changing with her mind. Steve wasn’t sure how much affection was okay to show, so he twined his fingers with Jonathan’s as they watched TV.

“Mom’s really excited.” Will said. “Just so you know. She’s been talking about it all day.”

Jonathan slumped down in his seat. “She wants to go to the gay pride parade in Chicago next summer.”

“We should all go.” El said, looking away from the TV at last. 

Next summer. That seemed so long from now. Would he and Jonathan even be together a year from now? 

“Yeah,” Jonathan said, smiling at Steve. “We should.”

.

Dinner was a pleasantly awkward affair. Joyce kept throwing excited looks at Steve and Jonathan, who bore it with grace. Even Will and El kept smiling at the couple. Only Hopper acted normally, digging into his meal and not doing much else. 

“You two make such a handsome couple.” Joyce finally burst, and it was clear she’d been trying not to say anything but had failed miserably.

Steve smiled over his green beans. “I like to think so.”

“Maybe we’ll see more of you while Jonathan’s home,” she said, glancing at her family. 

“Mom,” Jonathan muttered, but Steve nudged his knee with his own. 

“I’d love that.”

“Can we go to Gay Pride in Chicago next summer?” El asked.

“El,” Hopper said in a tone that seemed to imply they’d talked about this. 

“Sure!” Joyce said. “If the boys want to. Hell, even if they don’t, you and I will go.”

“We should all go,” Jonathan said, glancing at Steve. “It would be nice.”

“Yeah,” Steve found himself saying. “It would be.”

.

July passed far too quickly. Steve spent as much of his free time as he could with Jonathan, whether it was watching movies at his place or tagging along while Jonathan took pictures. He spent more and more time with Jonathan’s family, coming over after work for dinner or helping Hopper with household repairs. 

So it killed him when July turned into August and Jonathan started packing for New York. Classes would begin in the second week, and Jonathan’s flight was a few days before. Will and El were also getting ready for their first year of college in Chicago, and Joyce was understandably depressed at the prospect of an empty house.

“I hope you’ll still come over for dinner and whatnot after the kids leave,” she said to Steve. 

He hoped he would too, but some part of him was terrified that Jonathan was going to break up with him, either right before he left or at some point during the school year. Maybe Steve was just something fun to do over the summer, some small town distraction until Jonathan could get back to the city and the intellectuals there. Maybe Jonathan really did like Steve, but there would be another Holden in one of his classes, some sexy photography student who had ambition and drive and talent. 

So it was kind of a relief when, the night before Jonathan’s flight out, he asked, “Are you going to break up with me?”

Steve rolled onto his side, staring in surprise at his boyfriend. “You think  _ I _ would break up with  _ you _ ?”

Jonathan rolled onto his side too, resting his head on his hand. “I don’t know.”

“No! Jonathan, you’re...this is the happiest I’ve ever been in a relationship,” he said sincerely. “I’ve been worrying  _ you’d _ break up with  _ me _ .”

Jonathan gave him a small smile. “You think I’m that stupid?”

“You really wanna do this, then?”

Jonathan nodded. “I do. Do you?”

“Yeah. I really do.”

Jonathan hesitated. “My fall break is in October...I don’t know if that’s like...too far out, but maybe you could come see me?”

October. That was two months from now. Steve could do two months. Two months would fly by. And then he’d hop on a plane and see New York for the first time. Not that the location mattered; they could spend the whole time in Jonathan’s room and Steve would consider it time well-spent. 

“Yeah,” he found himself saying. “Yeah, if that’s good for you…”

“Totally.”

“Then I’ll do it.”

Jonathan smiled.

.

In the morning, Steve drove Jonathan to the airport in Indianapolis. Joyce and Hopper had said their goodbyes the night before; today, they were taking Will and El to Chicago to settle them in the dorms. Steve was glad for the chance to be alone with Jonathan before he left. They spent the car ride listening to Jonathan’s Talking Heads cassette and reminiscing over their favorite parts of the summer. They stopped a couple times for snacks, and because Steve was driving, he insisted that Jonathan hand-feed him M&Ms. 

“This is the gayest thing I’ve ever done.” Jonathan mock-complained.

“Oh,  _ this _ is the gayest thing you’ve ever done?”

“Yep. The gayest.”

“I thought  _ I _ was the gayest thing you’ve ever done. Ba-dum-tch.”

“Oh my god.”

.

The talking and laughing faded when they saw the first sign for the airport. Silence descended over the car, broken only when Jonathan directed Steve to the departures lane. His chest constricting, Steve pulled into the lane, following the line of traffic until he reached Jonathan’s gate. He got out of the car to help Jonathan unload his luggage, and then everything was unloaded and Jonathan had his ticket in hand and there was no more delaying the inevitable. 

They hugged for a long moment, unwilling to let the other go. Both men breathed deeply, holding each other just a little bit tighter with each breath. An overhead voice reminded passengers that the white zone was for the immediate loading and unloading of passengers only, and with a huff, they pulled apart. Steve’s eyes were watery, and so, he was amused to see, were Jonathan’s.

“Well,” Jonathan croaked. “I’ll see you in October.”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “See you then.”

Jonathan shouldered his bag and grabbed his suitcase, heading into the airport. Steve wiped his eyes, getting into the car. Too late, he realized that Jonathan had left behind his Talking Heads cassette. He ejected the cassette, running inside.

“Jonathan!” he shouted. The other man turned around, surprised.

Steve waved the cassette as he came closer. “You forgot this.”

Jonathan smiled. “Keep it. We can listen to it when you pick me up for Thanksgiving.” He headed for the gate.

Steve watched him for a long moment, and then went up to the ticket counter. 

“Hi,” he said. “I’d like to book one ticket for New York City in October.”


End file.
